The World According To Bubba

Don't Get Me Wrong, I Love Literary Fiction. It's Faux Literary Fiction I Can't Stand.

And He Hated Himself And Hated Her,too, For The Ruin They'd Made Of Each Other.

I Held Her, He Wanted To Say, And If I Knew For Certain That All It Would Take To Hold Her Again Would Be To Die, Then I Couldn't Raise The Gun To My Head Fast Enough.

And Often The Worst Thing Wasn't The Victims--they Were Dead, After All, And Beyond Any More Pain. The Worst Thing Was Those Who Loved Them And Survived Them. Often The Walking Dead From Now On, Shell-shocked, Hearts Ruptured, Stumbling Through The Remainder Of Their Lives Without Anything Left Inside Of Them But Blood And Organs, Impervious To Pain, Having Learned Nothing Except That The Worst Things Did, In Fact, Sometimes Happen. (mystic River)

It's Very Simple. If You Learn How To Write Well, To Write With Depth, Cream Will Rise To The Top. You'll Get Published. But, There Is No Secret.